Gift of Fate Chapter 5 (6/?)
Apr. 12th, 2011 03:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
luminare91Summary: Oliver has been missing for two years, ever since his boat went down in a sudden storm. Chloe is still grieving for him. What will it take for her to move on and live her life again? What happened to Oliver? Will he ever come back? And who's behind the mysterious disappearances in Star City?
Rating: PG-13 for the most part, however there are sections that are NC-17 (my first attempt, for the record) for sexual content. This fic contains violence and language. Chapters containing sexual content will be preceded by a warning.
Spoilers: The entire series, basically. The basic setting is season six with a twist, but anything is fair game if it works for this fic.
Warning: Again, this is AU and is a continuation of my fic Twist of Fate, which you really need to read first or this isn't going to make any sense. There will sexual content and violence.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, I'm just playing around with them.
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4,
Banner by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
geek_or_unique
Chapter 5
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
Oliver glanced up from his phone and smiled weakly at Chloe. They’d landed at a private airstrip outside Star City to avoid attention and were on their way to Oliver’s penthouse to drop her off. “There’s nothing you can do. The board and I have to straighten things out so I can have my company back and then I have to give the press conference. Aside from standing in the corner, you can’t do anything. There’s no point in both of us being bored to death.”
“I thought I was supposed to be here for moral support,” Chloe said, arching her eyebrow.
“And you are,” he chuckled. “Coming home to someone who hasn’t spent the entire day dealing with all of this crap and who isn’t completely run down is going to be a blessing.”
Chloe sighed. “All right. But what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”
“Whatever you want,” he shrugged. “Settle in at the penthouse. The guest room is all yours, just so you know. There’s no food in the place, but there should be some take out menus in the drawer by the fridge.”
“I can go shopping if you want me to,” she offered.
He shook his head. “No. We can take care of that later. I don’t know how much I’m actually going to be around the next few days. There’s no point in stocking the kitchen if it’s just going to be you. I’ll have a better idea of what’s going to be happening over the next few days after I talk to the board. Just order takeout on me.”
“You do realize that it’s not going to take me all day to unpack my one bag, right?”
“I’m sure it won’t,” he laughed. “But you’ll find something to do. Just,” he paused slightly and became more serious than he had been before. “Do me a favor. Don’t watch the press conference.”
“Why not?” Chloe asked in confusion.
“I want to tell you myself,” he said softly. “They’re going to ask questions about where I’ve been and what happened to me. I don’t want you to hear the bare minimum facts I’m going to be giving the press. I want you to know everything, but I want you to know it from me, not a broadcast.”
She nodded. “All right. I’ll just find something else to occupy my time.”
“I’m sure you’ll find something to do. You can always spend the day watching movies.”
“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” she admitted. “I don’t know when the last time I saw a movie all the way through.”
“Would that be about two years ago?” he suggested, half teasing, half shamefully.
Chloe laughed. “I never finished a movie when you were around.”
He smiled at that. “We did tend to get distracted, didn’t we?”
“All the time. You were really good at that.”
“If I remember correctly, you were too.” Oliver offered her a slight grin.
Chloe felt her heart constrict slightly and an almost overpowering desire to kiss him washed over her. But she knew it would only complicate things further. They still hadn’t even attempted to address everything that had happened during the two years they were apart. But that one kiss they had shared the night before had been enough to reawaken her body to him the way she had been before.
Beside her, Oliver was dealing with the same problem. It didn’t help matters that he’d been alone for all but the tail end of the last two years. Just being near Chloe was intoxicating and it was taking all of his will power not to pull her into his lap and never let her go. The part of his brain that was still rational acknowledged that he needed to deal with everything that had happened to him and to Chloe before that could happen. At the moment, he was definitely cursing that rationality.
The car came to a stop in front of Queen Towers, as the apartment building was generally called by most people. Chloe sighed, giving him a small smile.
“You have my new cellphone number, right?” he asked. “And the code for the elevator?”
She nodded. “I’ll call if I need anything. Don’t worry. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“All right.”
“Good luck.”
Almost reluctantly, Chloe slid out of the car, closing the door behind her. She stood on the sidewalk and waited until the car was out of sight before she picked up her bags and slipped inside.
The building was mostly high priced apartments, with Oliver’s penthouse at the very top. She made her way to the private elevator that led to his apartment. She keyed in the code when prompted, swiping the access card he’d given her as well. Chloe felt almost nervous riding up the elevator. The last time she’d been to his apartment had been right after Justin Gaines had attacked them. Despite the fact that he’d been going back to Star City every other weekend or better during the school year to learn what he needed to about running Queen Industries, Chloe hadn’t gone with him, mostly for two reasons. First, Oliver had been spending most of his time on the trips in meetings and mini lessons with some of his board members, so they wouldn’t have had time to hang out anyway. Second, he’d been worried about the media attention they’d receive if Chloe started coming with him on every trip. The last thing he’d wanted was for the tabloids to get a hold of something and twist it around, sending Chloe running for the hills. They’d managed to keep their relationship low key, and he wanted to keep it that way. So instead, they’d spent the days apart, keeping in contact via phone, e-mail, and video chat. It felt kind of surreal, being back there after so long.
When the elevator doors finally slid open, Chloe’s heart was racing. She ordered herself to stop being stupid and walked inside.
The penthouse hadn’t changed much in the past two years. But it was almost sterile. The last time Chloe had stood in that room there had been magazines scattered across the table, the throw pillows had been scattered haphazardly on the couch instead of nearly arranged. There had been dishes in the sink and fruit on the counter. His desk had been covered in papers. It looked like a model house or something. Everything was spotless, as though it hadn’t been lived in. Chloe had to force herself to remember that it really hadn’t been.
Sighing and gritting her teeth, she hauled her stuff into the guest room. The silence in the penthouse was almost deafening and slightly unnerving. Chloe preoccupied herself with unpacking for about half an hour, fiddling with her clothing until there was absolutely nothing she could do. Grabbing her laptop, she moved back to the living room. She picked a movie out of Oliver’s extensive collection and popped it in the player. Sitting cross-legged on the couch, she opened her laptop and settled back for a long day.
***
Oliver rubbed his temples tiredly. It had been a long, long day. As it turned out, he couldn’t actually take control of his company until he was either twenty-five or had completed a four year degree. The board had agreed to give him what authority they could in the mean time, on the condition that Oliver go to school at SCU and continue to attend meetings and actively participate in the company. They’d warned him that they’d be watching him carefully and that if he screwed up even once, he wouldn’t get a second chance.
Talk about pressure. On some level, Oliver knew that they weren’t threatening to throw him out if he made a business mistake or something like that. In fact, they were probably expecting that. No, they were talking about the stupid stunts he pulled in years past. But that didn’t make the prospect any less frightening, especially considering his reputation for screwing up.
Then there had been the press conference. That had been fun. The reporters had fired questions at him mercilessly. Some had even gone so far as to insinuate that he’d been screwing around for the past two years. Every bit of his dirty laundry had been aired out. He’d been incredibly grateful that Chloe had agreed not to watch the press conference. It wasn’t as if he was under the misguided impression that she didn’t know those things about him. Chloe researched everyone she came across, simply out of habit. He just didn’t want her to have to hear about it from him.
The elevator came to a stop and the door slid open. A weight lifted of his shoulders as he stepped into the living room. Chloe was sitting on the couch, looking at her computer and completely ignoring the movie that was playing. She looked up when he walked in and smiled.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey,” he answered tiredly. Loosening his tie and tossing it on the table, Oliver collapsed on the sofa beside her.
“That bad, huh?”
“You have no idea. Be glad you didn’t have to sit through it.”
“Have you eaten at all?”
Before he could answer, his stomach growled. He glanced at her sheepishly. Chloe held back her laughter. “I take that as a yes. Chinese sound good?”
“Yeah. Do you--”
“Remember our order?” she finished. “By heart. Just give me a minute to call it in. Why don’t you go change into something more comfortable?”
With a groan, Oliver heaved himself back to his feet and stumbled down the hallway toward his bedroom. It felt almost surreal standing in there again. It was too neat. He wasn’t a typical teenaged slob by any means. But he wasn’t a neat freak either, at least not with his bedroom. There were usually books, clothes, and odds and ends scattered around. But not only was it cleaner than usual, most of his stuff was in boxes stacked in the closet. The penthouse had been used to accommodate visiting businessmen while he was gone. It didn’t feel like home anymore. Not that it ever really had.
Oliver walked over to the closet. He lugged the boxes out and spread them throughout the room. He went through the boxes until he found what he was looking for. Digging a t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants out, he quickly pulled them on. It felt good to be in his own clothes, in something comfortable.
Yawning widely and rolling his neck in a vain attempt to relieve some of the tension, he made his way back to the living room. Chloe was still on the phone, so he sat down and dropped his head back against the sofa, closing his eyes. After a moment, he felt the cushions dip.
“Food’ll be here in about an hour,” Chloe said. “I ran to the deli earlier. There’s some of my sandwich left if you want it.”
He cracked an eye open. “I’m fine. What did you do today?”
“Oh, it was action packed,” she grinned. “I unpacked, called the Planet and told them that I was going to have to quit, confirmed my attendance to SCU, sent in my resume to the Star City Register, and basically trolled around on the internet.”
Her grin faltered at that, only slightly, but Oliver noticed. He sat up. “What’s wrong?”
She looked at him in confusion. “Nothing.”
“Chloe,” he said firmly. “It may have been two years, but I can still tell when something’s bothering you. What did you find on the internet?”
She hesitated to tell him. To be honest, she wasn’t sure that she’d found anything.
“What happened to being open with each other?” he asked gently.
She shot him a look. “I was looking through some of the old Register articles and I came across a couple of articles about some recent homicides. There were some similarities between the cases and being the conspiracy theorist that I am, I started thinking that there might be a connection.”
Oliver shook his head in astonishment. “You are the only one who could move to a new city and find the psychos.”
“Funny,” Chloe deadpanned, whacking him with a pillow. “That was when I stopped looking. I’ve spent too much time in Smallville.”
“What exactly happened in Smallville while I was gone?” Oliver asked.
The mood in the room became abruptly more serious. Chloe sighed and leaned back against the arm of the sofa.
“A lot happened,” she admitted. “You sure you want to hear all about it, right now?”
He nodded slowly, shifting closer to her. “We can’t make this work if we don’t now exactly what happened the past two years. I know I’m not the same guy I was when I left. And I highly doubt that you’ve gone completely unchanged. But it’s not enough to know that we’ve changed. We need to know why.”
“I know,” she said with a gentle smile. “What I’m asking, is if you’re ready to hear it all right now.”
“I don’t want to spend any more time wondering what happened to you,” Oliver whispered.
“All right,” she sighed. “Well, there were the usual meteor infected crazy people going after us. We had a second meteor shower the day of graduation. Lana and I were possessed by sixteenth century witches. I was also possessed by this wannabe prom queen who wrecked her car and died. Clark and I met a few people who are using their powers to help people like Clark is. Lex was experimenting on them. He’s completely gone over to the dark side, while Lionel is actually turning into a halfway decent guy. I still don’t trust him, but he’s not completely evil. Mr. Kent ran for state senate, but he had a heart attack right after he won and passed away. Martha’s taken his seat. She’s really gotten into it. And last but not least, a walking, talking computer from Clark’s home planet is wreaking havoc.”
For several moments, Oliver just stared at her.
“I told you it was a lot,” she said weakly.
“Believe it or not, it’s not as bad as some of the things I imagined.”
She frowned at that. “And what did you imagine?”
“More bodily harm.”
“So I guess this wouldn’t be the time to mention that I cut my wrists because of the ghost in my apartment?”
“You what?”
“It’s not like I intended it. The ghost made me do it and then it possessed me after Clark found the body.”
“How many times have you been possessed, exactly?”
She shrugged. “I stopped counting.”
“Of course you did,” Oliver muttered. “Is there anything else you forgot to tell me?”
“Probably. But it’s not because I’m keeping it from you,” she added quickly, catching the look he was giving her. “That’s just all I remember off the top of my head.”
Mollified that she wasn’t intentionally keeping something back to spare him, Oliver shook his head and leaned back. “All things considered, I guess it could have been worse.”
Chloe picked up one of the pillows and started toying with the corner. Her eyes fixed firmly on it when she spoke. “So...what exactly happened to you?”
“There’s not much to tell,” he admitted. “We were close to where my parent’s plane went down. One night I was restless so I went up on the deck to look at the stars. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remember was being thrown across the deck by a storm. I tried to grab onto something, but the yacht was being tossed around too much. I hit my head on something and blacked out.”
He paused, seemingly trying to decide how best to continue. Tossing the pillow aside, Chloe moved closer and took Oliver’s hand in hers, silently encouraging him to go on.
***
Oliver coughed, spitting salt water from his mouth and nose. Every inch of him ached. It felt like he’d been shoved in a dryer set on spin cycle. Water lapped at his feet. With a groan, he managed to roll onto his back so that his face was no longer pressed into wet sand. Bright sunlight pierced his eyelids. He turned his head to the side.
His lungs and throat burned with every breath he took. Slowly, the pain in his body subsided to a dull, constant ache and he drifted to sleep.
When he woke again, it was night. Oliver pushed himself upright carefully and looked around. There was nothing to see. The beach extended as far as he could see in either direction. Moonlight glinted off the water. Slowly, he rose to his feet and turned to look behind him. A dense jungle met the beach about ten yards away.
“Where the hell am I?” he wondered aloud. His throat protested the act of speech.
Suddenly becoming aware of how hungry and thirsty he was, Oliver stumbled down the beach, searching for something to eat or drink. He wasn’t sure how long he was out there, wandering around, before he came up on a stream, flowing down the beach to the ocean. He sank to his knees and greedily cupped the water into his hand, pouring it down his parched and raw throat.
When he had drunk his fill and was slightly steadier on his feet, he continued to search for something to eat. The sun had begun to rise by the time he found some fruit. He only hesitated for a moment before decided that he really didn’t care if it was poisonous or not. He was hungry. Besides, it looked familiar.
For days, that was how he survived, scavenging for fruit and drinking water from the stream. Oliver lost count of how much time had passed. The days and nights blended together. At first, he tried to search for the others who had been on the yacht. But after not even finding debris, he’d given up the search. He was the only person on the island.
That night, as he lay on the beach, falling asleep, Oliver began to give up hope. It had been weeks since he’d been stranded. The odds that someone would find him were slim. He was probably the only to have survived.
As he lay there, his thoughts drifted to Chloe, to the last time they’d been together at the Star City docks. He hadn’t wanted to leave. But he hadn’t had a choice, not if he wanted to impress the board and run his company some day. He could still remember the feel of her body in his arms, warm and soft against him. His heart ached as he realized he would never see her again. But some part of him took comfort in the knowledge that she would always have some part of him. She would always have the necklace.
“Giving up so easily?”
Oliver’s eye flew up and he sat bolt upright. Standing in front of him, in a light blue sundress, up to her ankles in the ocean, was Chloe.
“What...how did you get here?” he stammered.
She shrugged. “You tell me. It’s your dream.”
“Dream?” Oliver repeated, his heart sinking.
“What? Did you really think I just appeared out of nowhere? Sorry, to disappoint, but I haven’t been around enough meteor rock to get a power. Not quite yet.” Grinning at him, she walked out of the water and sat down beside him. “You never answered my question. Are you really gonna give up?”
“What’s the point?” Oliver sighed. “No one’s going to find me.”
“So? That’s no reason to give up. You can still live.”
“On a deserted island? I’m lucky I survived this long. I don’t even know what I’m doing!”
“Well starters, you can stop acting like you’re going to be rescued. You’ve been thinking short term, Ollie. It sucks, but it looks like you’re going to be here for a while.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?” he asked quietly.
Chloe shrugged. “Build a shelter. Find some sort of knife. Learn to actually hunt for food. Has your time in Smallville taught you nothing about survival?”
“Fighting meteor freaks is slightly different,” he scoffed.
“Then man who figured out how to stop Veronica, can figure out how to live on an island,” Chloe said softly. “As long as you keep trying, there is a chance, no matter how small, that you will be found and we will be together again.”
“You mean I can’t settle for the hallucination version?”
She chuckled. “For a while, perhaps. But not forever. I am the voice in the back of your mind. I cannot substitute for the real Chloe. You’ll just have to do everything you can to get back to her.”
“Do you think I can do it?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. It matters what you believe.”
With a small, sad smile, she stood and began walking back to the water. Oliver leapt to his feet and followed her, grabbing her arm and pulling her around, crashing his lips onto hers. And then she was gone.
Oliver woke with a start.
That wasn’t the first dream of that nature he had. Whenever he felt like giving up, he had another one. In an attempt to survive, he made an crude knife out stone and used it cut down the fruit he found and small trees to create some kind of shelter from the elements.
One day, as he sat beside the stream, not long after he'd washed up on shore, he caught sight of something in the water. Curious, he slid off the rock he was sitting on, regardless of the fact that he was soaking his only change of clothes. He bent down, the water reaching to his elbow. His fingers brushed against the stone that had caught his attention.
Straightening up, Oliver examined the stone. It looked vaguely like an arrowhead.
A slow, almost smug, smile tugged at his lips. His father had gotten interested in archery back when he was still a kid. He’d loved it and he’d always been a good shot. Practicing had been one of the few times that he’d gotten his dad all to himself. After his parents died, he’d kept up with it as a way to stay close to them, even going to so far as to enter into competitions. There were medals he’d won somewhere in his parent’s old house, where he’d been living with some of the staff until he got sent to Excelsior. By the time he got sent away to boarding school, Oliver had been so screwed up and angry at the world that he’d given up archery.
It looked like it was time to pick it up again.
Oliver slipped the stone into the pocket of his khakis and immediately set off into the trees.
***
“You really had a dream about me that saved your life?” Chloe asked when Oliver paused in the story.
A slight blush tinged his cheeks and he shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. I know it’s kinda weird and definitely kinda cheesy, but realizing that if I tried, I might still have a chance to see you again, gave me a reason to try.”
“It’s not weird,” she said softly, taking his hand in hers once more. “The night before you came back, I had a dream. It wasn’t the first I had like that. I dreamt that we were standing on a beach, but you were behind me and I couldn’t see you. You promised me that you’d be back some day and you told me that as long as I kept living that you’d live to and that I’d bring you back.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “I’ve been having those dreams for a while. They always made me feel connected to you, like you were actually out there somewhere.”
“It’s good to know I wasn’t the only one.”
“So after you decided to pick up archery, what happened?”
Oliver shrugged. “Well for the next two years, or however long it was, I just survived. I practiced, became a better shot, learned how to navigate through the forests, how to move silently. I practically memorized the island. I built a more permanent shelter. Aside from a few mishaps, like the day I slipped on the rocks and split my shin open, it was pretty much the same thing. There’s not really much to tell until the drug-runners showed up.”
“So why don’t you skip to that part?” Chloe suggested with a grin.
Rolling his eyes, Oliver continued his story.
***
Something was different. Oliver couldn’t quite place it. He’d been running through the forest, searching for food, when something had changed. After being on the island for almost two years, if his count was right, he knew it better than he’d know his parents’ home outside Star City. The sounds of the island seemed off somehow. Warily, he strung his bow and pulled an arrow from his quiver, fitting it to the string. His entire body tense, he listened intently.
At first, all he heard were the usual sounds of the island, the birds, the wind in the trees, even the ocean in the distance. Then, he heard it. The sound that did not belong. It was the sound of a sputtering engine, growing steadily closer.
For the first time in months, Oliver felt hope warm his chest. But he quickly pushed it away. There had been several false alarms over the two years he’d been on the island. The occasional plane sometimes flew by over head. Once, he even thought he heard someone call his name, but there had been no one there. Tightening his grip on his bow, he raced through the forest, toward the sounds.
He slid to a stop at the edge of the tree line, blending into the shadows. A boat had been run up onto the beach. It was old and rusty, the worse for wear. One side of the hull was cracked. As Oliver watched, two men jumped off the boat. They were dressed in cargo pants and black tank tops and clutched automatic weapons in their hands. He watched as they examined the hole in their ship. After a few minutes, they climbed back into the boat, reappearing seconds later with several other men. Half of the group branched off, heading into the forest not far from where Oliver stood, watching them. He didn’t move and they passed by, unaware of his presence.
He stood there for several more minutes, watching the group that remained on the beach. They continued to assess the damage to the boat, hauling scraps off the boat to use for repair. Several men set to work covering the crack while the other men started a fire. It wasn’t long before the rest of the group reappeared out of the forest. They carried fruit and wood. It seemed they were going to camp on the beach while the boat was being repaired.
Oliver retreated into the forest, back to the opposite side of the island where his shelter was. If he was careful and incredibly lucky, he’d be able to commandeer the ship and get off that damn island.
He returned to his hiding place every day, watching their progress. They spoke in heavily accented english, but he was able to make out some of their conversation. It seemed they were drug-runners. Oliver wasn’t going to regret stranding them on the island.
It was late on the third day when they got boat repaired. When he heard the man he thought to be in charge say that they would leave in the morning, Oliver slipped back to his camp, gathering all the arrows he had, as well as the daggers he’d fashioned. He pulled on the hood he’d made from leaves to keep the sun out of his face when he was hunting, so that his face would be hidden on the off chance that they would know who he was.
Then he waited until nightfall. Only one or two of the drug-runners slept on the boat. Most of the preferred to stay on the beach in the cool air. Oliver up to the boat, careful to stay out of sight. He hauled himself up the side of the boat. Landing silently on the deck, he pulled his bow out it’s protective sheath and strung it. He tucked a dagger into the hand the held the bow, then strung an arrow. His heart was racing slightly.
He picked his way cautiously across the deck to the hatch that led to the lower levels. There was no one in sight. As he descended the stairs, Oliver found himself grateful for the excellent night vision he had acquired over the past two years. It would definitely give him the advantage.
Pausing at the foot of the stairs, he listened for any tell tale signs that someone else was on the boat. Snoring echoed down the hall to his right. He smirked and moved toward the source of the sound.
The drug-runner was propped in a chair outside a door. His head lolled back, his mouth hanging open as he snored loudly. Rolling his eyes, Oliver slipped forward. As he got closer, her noticed that the chair seemed to be shoved against the door, keeping it closed. What could possibly be so important that they would send someone to guard it? Whatever it was, it might help him escape.
Oliver tapped the man on the shoulder, startling him awake. He smirked and slammed his elbow into the man’s temple, successfully knocking him out.
Hauling the man out of the way, Oliver tied him hand and foot and gagged him, just in case he woke and tried to call for help. The door had swung open slightly of it’s own accord. Oliver pushed it open with his foot, keeping his bow drawn, and slipped inside.
A young woman with flaming red hair, pale skin, and wide, scared eyes. She was bound to a chair, her hands behind her back. Her ankles was tied to the chair legs. A gag was tied cruelly about her head. At the sight of Oliver, she started twisting and making muffled, frantic noises, trying to escape. He lowered his bow, shoving the arrow back into his quiver, and help up his hands. She calmed slightly.
He slowly knelt in front of her and undid the gag.
“Who are you?” she whispered. Her voice was weak and afraid.
Oliver swallowed. He hadn’t spoken aloud in two years. “A friend,” he managed to croak. “Trust me. I’ll get you out of here.”
Slowly, trying not to startle her, he pulled out his dagger and cut through her restraints. Sliding the dagger back into the sheath he’d made from bark, he offered her a hand and pulled her to her feet.
“Where are we?” she asked.
He shrugged. “No clue,” he muttered, trying to keep his voice down. He was already feeling the strain of speaking. “I’ve been stuck here for two years. What’s your name?”
“Tess,” she whispered.
“All right. I need you to stick close to me. I knocked out the guy sitting outside the room. But there may be someone else here. I need you to help me get him up to the deck so we can throw him overboard. Can you do that?”
She nodded sharply. Oliver led her out into the hall and together they managed to haul the unconscious drug-runner up the stairs. They left him lying on the deck while the searched the rest of the boat. It was empty save for them.
When he was sure that the boat was clear, Oliver threw the now conscious man off the ship and hurried back to the engine room. The shouts of the other men could be heard as they pulled away from the island, but they were already out of reach.
Sighing in relief, Oliver slumped over the steering wheel.
“Who are you?” Tess asked in amazement.
He just smiled at her.
***
“That’s amazing,” Chloe breathed when Oliver finally finished.
He just shrugged. “Not really. We called for help when were far enough away from the island. Or, Tess did,” he corrected with a slight grin. “I could still barely speak. I wrote out my story for her so she could tell whoever answered who I was.”
“Why was she on the ship?” Chloe asked curiously.
“She was a marine biology student,” he explained. “She was part of a team in Fiji studying marine life. They were ambushed by the drug runners. They took her hostage. She was the only survivor.”
“Oh my god. How long did they have her?”
“Two weeks.”
“Is she all right?”
He nodded. “Scared, but all right. That’s why I stuck so close to her when we got back. I felt bad that after being kidnapped that she was being drug through the media. Queen Industries might have been able to keep them from publishing for a few hours, but not from showing up with cameras. That’s hard enough when you haven’t been traumatized.”
“And here I accused you of having a relationship with you when you were just being nice. Have I mentioned I’m sorry?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I know how it looked Chloe. I was pretty desperate to be around someone else. And after the way I acted when I saw you with Jimmy, you had every right to jump to conclusions. By the way,” he added with a slight grin. “I’m sorry for that, too.”
Chloe smiled. “So now that we know what happened to each other over the past two years, what do we do?”
“I have no idea,” he admitted. “I guess we just have to wait and see how we’ve changed and get to know each other again.”
“So, basically we hang out?”
“You up for that?”
At that moment, the buzzer went off, signifying the arrival of their food. Grinning, Chloe stood to get it. “Pick a movie. We’ll spend the evening hanging out. Know any good party games?”
Author’s Note: All right. So, since I feel like I kind of have been dragging things along, a little hint of what is to come. Things get just a little more complicated when Chloe has to cover a QI Gala for the Register.
Chapter 6
Rating: PG-13 for the most part, however there are sections that are NC-17 (my first attempt, for the record) for sexual content. This fic contains violence and language. Chapters containing sexual content will be preceded by a warning.
Spoilers: The entire series, basically. The basic setting is season six with a twist, but anything is fair game if it works for this fic.
Warning: Again, this is AU and is a continuation of my fic Twist of Fate, which you really need to read first or this isn't going to make any sense. There will sexual content and violence.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, I'm just playing around with them.
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4,
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geek_or_unique Chapter 5
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
Oliver glanced up from his phone and smiled weakly at Chloe. They’d landed at a private airstrip outside Star City to avoid attention and were on their way to Oliver’s penthouse to drop her off. “There’s nothing you can do. The board and I have to straighten things out so I can have my company back and then I have to give the press conference. Aside from standing in the corner, you can’t do anything. There’s no point in both of us being bored to death.”
“I thought I was supposed to be here for moral support,” Chloe said, arching her eyebrow.
“And you are,” he chuckled. “Coming home to someone who hasn’t spent the entire day dealing with all of this crap and who isn’t completely run down is going to be a blessing.”
Chloe sighed. “All right. But what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”
“Whatever you want,” he shrugged. “Settle in at the penthouse. The guest room is all yours, just so you know. There’s no food in the place, but there should be some take out menus in the drawer by the fridge.”
“I can go shopping if you want me to,” she offered.
He shook his head. “No. We can take care of that later. I don’t know how much I’m actually going to be around the next few days. There’s no point in stocking the kitchen if it’s just going to be you. I’ll have a better idea of what’s going to be happening over the next few days after I talk to the board. Just order takeout on me.”
“You do realize that it’s not going to take me all day to unpack my one bag, right?”
“I’m sure it won’t,” he laughed. “But you’ll find something to do. Just,” he paused slightly and became more serious than he had been before. “Do me a favor. Don’t watch the press conference.”
“Why not?” Chloe asked in confusion.
“I want to tell you myself,” he said softly. “They’re going to ask questions about where I’ve been and what happened to me. I don’t want you to hear the bare minimum facts I’m going to be giving the press. I want you to know everything, but I want you to know it from me, not a broadcast.”
She nodded. “All right. I’ll just find something else to occupy my time.”
“I’m sure you’ll find something to do. You can always spend the day watching movies.”
“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” she admitted. “I don’t know when the last time I saw a movie all the way through.”
“Would that be about two years ago?” he suggested, half teasing, half shamefully.
Chloe laughed. “I never finished a movie when you were around.”
He smiled at that. “We did tend to get distracted, didn’t we?”
“All the time. You were really good at that.”
“If I remember correctly, you were too.” Oliver offered her a slight grin.
Chloe felt her heart constrict slightly and an almost overpowering desire to kiss him washed over her. But she knew it would only complicate things further. They still hadn’t even attempted to address everything that had happened during the two years they were apart. But that one kiss they had shared the night before had been enough to reawaken her body to him the way she had been before.
Beside her, Oliver was dealing with the same problem. It didn’t help matters that he’d been alone for all but the tail end of the last two years. Just being near Chloe was intoxicating and it was taking all of his will power not to pull her into his lap and never let her go. The part of his brain that was still rational acknowledged that he needed to deal with everything that had happened to him and to Chloe before that could happen. At the moment, he was definitely cursing that rationality.
The car came to a stop in front of Queen Towers, as the apartment building was generally called by most people. Chloe sighed, giving him a small smile.
“You have my new cellphone number, right?” he asked. “And the code for the elevator?”
She nodded. “I’ll call if I need anything. Don’t worry. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“All right.”
“Good luck.”
Almost reluctantly, Chloe slid out of the car, closing the door behind her. She stood on the sidewalk and waited until the car was out of sight before she picked up her bags and slipped inside.
The building was mostly high priced apartments, with Oliver’s penthouse at the very top. She made her way to the private elevator that led to his apartment. She keyed in the code when prompted, swiping the access card he’d given her as well. Chloe felt almost nervous riding up the elevator. The last time she’d been to his apartment had been right after Justin Gaines had attacked them. Despite the fact that he’d been going back to Star City every other weekend or better during the school year to learn what he needed to about running Queen Industries, Chloe hadn’t gone with him, mostly for two reasons. First, Oliver had been spending most of his time on the trips in meetings and mini lessons with some of his board members, so they wouldn’t have had time to hang out anyway. Second, he’d been worried about the media attention they’d receive if Chloe started coming with him on every trip. The last thing he’d wanted was for the tabloids to get a hold of something and twist it around, sending Chloe running for the hills. They’d managed to keep their relationship low key, and he wanted to keep it that way. So instead, they’d spent the days apart, keeping in contact via phone, e-mail, and video chat. It felt kind of surreal, being back there after so long.
When the elevator doors finally slid open, Chloe’s heart was racing. She ordered herself to stop being stupid and walked inside.
The penthouse hadn’t changed much in the past two years. But it was almost sterile. The last time Chloe had stood in that room there had been magazines scattered across the table, the throw pillows had been scattered haphazardly on the couch instead of nearly arranged. There had been dishes in the sink and fruit on the counter. His desk had been covered in papers. It looked like a model house or something. Everything was spotless, as though it hadn’t been lived in. Chloe had to force herself to remember that it really hadn’t been.
Sighing and gritting her teeth, she hauled her stuff into the guest room. The silence in the penthouse was almost deafening and slightly unnerving. Chloe preoccupied herself with unpacking for about half an hour, fiddling with her clothing until there was absolutely nothing she could do. Grabbing her laptop, she moved back to the living room. She picked a movie out of Oliver’s extensive collection and popped it in the player. Sitting cross-legged on the couch, she opened her laptop and settled back for a long day.
***
Oliver rubbed his temples tiredly. It had been a long, long day. As it turned out, he couldn’t actually take control of his company until he was either twenty-five or had completed a four year degree. The board had agreed to give him what authority they could in the mean time, on the condition that Oliver go to school at SCU and continue to attend meetings and actively participate in the company. They’d warned him that they’d be watching him carefully and that if he screwed up even once, he wouldn’t get a second chance.
Talk about pressure. On some level, Oliver knew that they weren’t threatening to throw him out if he made a business mistake or something like that. In fact, they were probably expecting that. No, they were talking about the stupid stunts he pulled in years past. But that didn’t make the prospect any less frightening, especially considering his reputation for screwing up.
Then there had been the press conference. That had been fun. The reporters had fired questions at him mercilessly. Some had even gone so far as to insinuate that he’d been screwing around for the past two years. Every bit of his dirty laundry had been aired out. He’d been incredibly grateful that Chloe had agreed not to watch the press conference. It wasn’t as if he was under the misguided impression that she didn’t know those things about him. Chloe researched everyone she came across, simply out of habit. He just didn’t want her to have to hear about it from him.
The elevator came to a stop and the door slid open. A weight lifted of his shoulders as he stepped into the living room. Chloe was sitting on the couch, looking at her computer and completely ignoring the movie that was playing. She looked up when he walked in and smiled.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey,” he answered tiredly. Loosening his tie and tossing it on the table, Oliver collapsed on the sofa beside her.
“That bad, huh?”
“You have no idea. Be glad you didn’t have to sit through it.”
“Have you eaten at all?”
Before he could answer, his stomach growled. He glanced at her sheepishly. Chloe held back her laughter. “I take that as a yes. Chinese sound good?”
“Yeah. Do you--”
“Remember our order?” she finished. “By heart. Just give me a minute to call it in. Why don’t you go change into something more comfortable?”
With a groan, Oliver heaved himself back to his feet and stumbled down the hallway toward his bedroom. It felt almost surreal standing in there again. It was too neat. He wasn’t a typical teenaged slob by any means. But he wasn’t a neat freak either, at least not with his bedroom. There were usually books, clothes, and odds and ends scattered around. But not only was it cleaner than usual, most of his stuff was in boxes stacked in the closet. The penthouse had been used to accommodate visiting businessmen while he was gone. It didn’t feel like home anymore. Not that it ever really had.
Oliver walked over to the closet. He lugged the boxes out and spread them throughout the room. He went through the boxes until he found what he was looking for. Digging a t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants out, he quickly pulled them on. It felt good to be in his own clothes, in something comfortable.
Yawning widely and rolling his neck in a vain attempt to relieve some of the tension, he made his way back to the living room. Chloe was still on the phone, so he sat down and dropped his head back against the sofa, closing his eyes. After a moment, he felt the cushions dip.
“Food’ll be here in about an hour,” Chloe said. “I ran to the deli earlier. There’s some of my sandwich left if you want it.”
He cracked an eye open. “I’m fine. What did you do today?”
“Oh, it was action packed,” she grinned. “I unpacked, called the Planet and told them that I was going to have to quit, confirmed my attendance to SCU, sent in my resume to the Star City Register, and basically trolled around on the internet.”
Her grin faltered at that, only slightly, but Oliver noticed. He sat up. “What’s wrong?”
She looked at him in confusion. “Nothing.”
“Chloe,” he said firmly. “It may have been two years, but I can still tell when something’s bothering you. What did you find on the internet?”
She hesitated to tell him. To be honest, she wasn’t sure that she’d found anything.
“What happened to being open with each other?” he asked gently.
She shot him a look. “I was looking through some of the old Register articles and I came across a couple of articles about some recent homicides. There were some similarities between the cases and being the conspiracy theorist that I am, I started thinking that there might be a connection.”
Oliver shook his head in astonishment. “You are the only one who could move to a new city and find the psychos.”
“Funny,” Chloe deadpanned, whacking him with a pillow. “That was when I stopped looking. I’ve spent too much time in Smallville.”
“What exactly happened in Smallville while I was gone?” Oliver asked.
The mood in the room became abruptly more serious. Chloe sighed and leaned back against the arm of the sofa.
“A lot happened,” she admitted. “You sure you want to hear all about it, right now?”
He nodded slowly, shifting closer to her. “We can’t make this work if we don’t now exactly what happened the past two years. I know I’m not the same guy I was when I left. And I highly doubt that you’ve gone completely unchanged. But it’s not enough to know that we’ve changed. We need to know why.”
“I know,” she said with a gentle smile. “What I’m asking, is if you’re ready to hear it all right now.”
“I don’t want to spend any more time wondering what happened to you,” Oliver whispered.
“All right,” she sighed. “Well, there were the usual meteor infected crazy people going after us. We had a second meteor shower the day of graduation. Lana and I were possessed by sixteenth century witches. I was also possessed by this wannabe prom queen who wrecked her car and died. Clark and I met a few people who are using their powers to help people like Clark is. Lex was experimenting on them. He’s completely gone over to the dark side, while Lionel is actually turning into a halfway decent guy. I still don’t trust him, but he’s not completely evil. Mr. Kent ran for state senate, but he had a heart attack right after he won and passed away. Martha’s taken his seat. She’s really gotten into it. And last but not least, a walking, talking computer from Clark’s home planet is wreaking havoc.”
For several moments, Oliver just stared at her.
“I told you it was a lot,” she said weakly.
“Believe it or not, it’s not as bad as some of the things I imagined.”
She frowned at that. “And what did you imagine?”
“More bodily harm.”
“So I guess this wouldn’t be the time to mention that I cut my wrists because of the ghost in my apartment?”
“You what?”
“It’s not like I intended it. The ghost made me do it and then it possessed me after Clark found the body.”
“How many times have you been possessed, exactly?”
She shrugged. “I stopped counting.”
“Of course you did,” Oliver muttered. “Is there anything else you forgot to tell me?”
“Probably. But it’s not because I’m keeping it from you,” she added quickly, catching the look he was giving her. “That’s just all I remember off the top of my head.”
Mollified that she wasn’t intentionally keeping something back to spare him, Oliver shook his head and leaned back. “All things considered, I guess it could have been worse.”
Chloe picked up one of the pillows and started toying with the corner. Her eyes fixed firmly on it when she spoke. “So...what exactly happened to you?”
“There’s not much to tell,” he admitted. “We were close to where my parent’s plane went down. One night I was restless so I went up on the deck to look at the stars. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remember was being thrown across the deck by a storm. I tried to grab onto something, but the yacht was being tossed around too much. I hit my head on something and blacked out.”
He paused, seemingly trying to decide how best to continue. Tossing the pillow aside, Chloe moved closer and took Oliver’s hand in hers, silently encouraging him to go on.
***
Oliver coughed, spitting salt water from his mouth and nose. Every inch of him ached. It felt like he’d been shoved in a dryer set on spin cycle. Water lapped at his feet. With a groan, he managed to roll onto his back so that his face was no longer pressed into wet sand. Bright sunlight pierced his eyelids. He turned his head to the side.
His lungs and throat burned with every breath he took. Slowly, the pain in his body subsided to a dull, constant ache and he drifted to sleep.
When he woke again, it was night. Oliver pushed himself upright carefully and looked around. There was nothing to see. The beach extended as far as he could see in either direction. Moonlight glinted off the water. Slowly, he rose to his feet and turned to look behind him. A dense jungle met the beach about ten yards away.
“Where the hell am I?” he wondered aloud. His throat protested the act of speech.
Suddenly becoming aware of how hungry and thirsty he was, Oliver stumbled down the beach, searching for something to eat or drink. He wasn’t sure how long he was out there, wandering around, before he came up on a stream, flowing down the beach to the ocean. He sank to his knees and greedily cupped the water into his hand, pouring it down his parched and raw throat.
When he had drunk his fill and was slightly steadier on his feet, he continued to search for something to eat. The sun had begun to rise by the time he found some fruit. He only hesitated for a moment before decided that he really didn’t care if it was poisonous or not. He was hungry. Besides, it looked familiar.
For days, that was how he survived, scavenging for fruit and drinking water from the stream. Oliver lost count of how much time had passed. The days and nights blended together. At first, he tried to search for the others who had been on the yacht. But after not even finding debris, he’d given up the search. He was the only person on the island.
That night, as he lay on the beach, falling asleep, Oliver began to give up hope. It had been weeks since he’d been stranded. The odds that someone would find him were slim. He was probably the only to have survived.
As he lay there, his thoughts drifted to Chloe, to the last time they’d been together at the Star City docks. He hadn’t wanted to leave. But he hadn’t had a choice, not if he wanted to impress the board and run his company some day. He could still remember the feel of her body in his arms, warm and soft against him. His heart ached as he realized he would never see her again. But some part of him took comfort in the knowledge that she would always have some part of him. She would always have the necklace.
“Giving up so easily?”
Oliver’s eye flew up and he sat bolt upright. Standing in front of him, in a light blue sundress, up to her ankles in the ocean, was Chloe.
“What...how did you get here?” he stammered.
She shrugged. “You tell me. It’s your dream.”
“Dream?” Oliver repeated, his heart sinking.
“What? Did you really think I just appeared out of nowhere? Sorry, to disappoint, but I haven’t been around enough meteor rock to get a power. Not quite yet.” Grinning at him, she walked out of the water and sat down beside him. “You never answered my question. Are you really gonna give up?”
“What’s the point?” Oliver sighed. “No one’s going to find me.”
“So? That’s no reason to give up. You can still live.”
“On a deserted island? I’m lucky I survived this long. I don’t even know what I’m doing!”
“Well starters, you can stop acting like you’re going to be rescued. You’ve been thinking short term, Ollie. It sucks, but it looks like you’re going to be here for a while.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?” he asked quietly.
Chloe shrugged. “Build a shelter. Find some sort of knife. Learn to actually hunt for food. Has your time in Smallville taught you nothing about survival?”
“Fighting meteor freaks is slightly different,” he scoffed.
“Then man who figured out how to stop Veronica, can figure out how to live on an island,” Chloe said softly. “As long as you keep trying, there is a chance, no matter how small, that you will be found and we will be together again.”
“You mean I can’t settle for the hallucination version?”
She chuckled. “For a while, perhaps. But not forever. I am the voice in the back of your mind. I cannot substitute for the real Chloe. You’ll just have to do everything you can to get back to her.”
“Do you think I can do it?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. It matters what you believe.”
With a small, sad smile, she stood and began walking back to the water. Oliver leapt to his feet and followed her, grabbing her arm and pulling her around, crashing his lips onto hers. And then she was gone.
Oliver woke with a start.
That wasn’t the first dream of that nature he had. Whenever he felt like giving up, he had another one. In an attempt to survive, he made an crude knife out stone and used it cut down the fruit he found and small trees to create some kind of shelter from the elements.
One day, as he sat beside the stream, not long after he'd washed up on shore, he caught sight of something in the water. Curious, he slid off the rock he was sitting on, regardless of the fact that he was soaking his only change of clothes. He bent down, the water reaching to his elbow. His fingers brushed against the stone that had caught his attention.
Straightening up, Oliver examined the stone. It looked vaguely like an arrowhead.
A slow, almost smug, smile tugged at his lips. His father had gotten interested in archery back when he was still a kid. He’d loved it and he’d always been a good shot. Practicing had been one of the few times that he’d gotten his dad all to himself. After his parents died, he’d kept up with it as a way to stay close to them, even going to so far as to enter into competitions. There were medals he’d won somewhere in his parent’s old house, where he’d been living with some of the staff until he got sent to Excelsior. By the time he got sent away to boarding school, Oliver had been so screwed up and angry at the world that he’d given up archery.
It looked like it was time to pick it up again.
Oliver slipped the stone into the pocket of his khakis and immediately set off into the trees.
***
“You really had a dream about me that saved your life?” Chloe asked when Oliver paused in the story.
A slight blush tinged his cheeks and he shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. I know it’s kinda weird and definitely kinda cheesy, but realizing that if I tried, I might still have a chance to see you again, gave me a reason to try.”
“It’s not weird,” she said softly, taking his hand in hers once more. “The night before you came back, I had a dream. It wasn’t the first I had like that. I dreamt that we were standing on a beach, but you were behind me and I couldn’t see you. You promised me that you’d be back some day and you told me that as long as I kept living that you’d live to and that I’d bring you back.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “I’ve been having those dreams for a while. They always made me feel connected to you, like you were actually out there somewhere.”
“It’s good to know I wasn’t the only one.”
“So after you decided to pick up archery, what happened?”
Oliver shrugged. “Well for the next two years, or however long it was, I just survived. I practiced, became a better shot, learned how to navigate through the forests, how to move silently. I practically memorized the island. I built a more permanent shelter. Aside from a few mishaps, like the day I slipped on the rocks and split my shin open, it was pretty much the same thing. There’s not really much to tell until the drug-runners showed up.”
“So why don’t you skip to that part?” Chloe suggested with a grin.
Rolling his eyes, Oliver continued his story.
***
Something was different. Oliver couldn’t quite place it. He’d been running through the forest, searching for food, when something had changed. After being on the island for almost two years, if his count was right, he knew it better than he’d know his parents’ home outside Star City. The sounds of the island seemed off somehow. Warily, he strung his bow and pulled an arrow from his quiver, fitting it to the string. His entire body tense, he listened intently.
At first, all he heard were the usual sounds of the island, the birds, the wind in the trees, even the ocean in the distance. Then, he heard it. The sound that did not belong. It was the sound of a sputtering engine, growing steadily closer.
For the first time in months, Oliver felt hope warm his chest. But he quickly pushed it away. There had been several false alarms over the two years he’d been on the island. The occasional plane sometimes flew by over head. Once, he even thought he heard someone call his name, but there had been no one there. Tightening his grip on his bow, he raced through the forest, toward the sounds.
He slid to a stop at the edge of the tree line, blending into the shadows. A boat had been run up onto the beach. It was old and rusty, the worse for wear. One side of the hull was cracked. As Oliver watched, two men jumped off the boat. They were dressed in cargo pants and black tank tops and clutched automatic weapons in their hands. He watched as they examined the hole in their ship. After a few minutes, they climbed back into the boat, reappearing seconds later with several other men. Half of the group branched off, heading into the forest not far from where Oliver stood, watching them. He didn’t move and they passed by, unaware of his presence.
He stood there for several more minutes, watching the group that remained on the beach. They continued to assess the damage to the boat, hauling scraps off the boat to use for repair. Several men set to work covering the crack while the other men started a fire. It wasn’t long before the rest of the group reappeared out of the forest. They carried fruit and wood. It seemed they were going to camp on the beach while the boat was being repaired.
Oliver retreated into the forest, back to the opposite side of the island where his shelter was. If he was careful and incredibly lucky, he’d be able to commandeer the ship and get off that damn island.
He returned to his hiding place every day, watching their progress. They spoke in heavily accented english, but he was able to make out some of their conversation. It seemed they were drug-runners. Oliver wasn’t going to regret stranding them on the island.
It was late on the third day when they got boat repaired. When he heard the man he thought to be in charge say that they would leave in the morning, Oliver slipped back to his camp, gathering all the arrows he had, as well as the daggers he’d fashioned. He pulled on the hood he’d made from leaves to keep the sun out of his face when he was hunting, so that his face would be hidden on the off chance that they would know who he was.
Then he waited until nightfall. Only one or two of the drug-runners slept on the boat. Most of the preferred to stay on the beach in the cool air. Oliver up to the boat, careful to stay out of sight. He hauled himself up the side of the boat. Landing silently on the deck, he pulled his bow out it’s protective sheath and strung it. He tucked a dagger into the hand the held the bow, then strung an arrow. His heart was racing slightly.
He picked his way cautiously across the deck to the hatch that led to the lower levels. There was no one in sight. As he descended the stairs, Oliver found himself grateful for the excellent night vision he had acquired over the past two years. It would definitely give him the advantage.
Pausing at the foot of the stairs, he listened for any tell tale signs that someone else was on the boat. Snoring echoed down the hall to his right. He smirked and moved toward the source of the sound.
The drug-runner was propped in a chair outside a door. His head lolled back, his mouth hanging open as he snored loudly. Rolling his eyes, Oliver slipped forward. As he got closer, her noticed that the chair seemed to be shoved against the door, keeping it closed. What could possibly be so important that they would send someone to guard it? Whatever it was, it might help him escape.
Oliver tapped the man on the shoulder, startling him awake. He smirked and slammed his elbow into the man’s temple, successfully knocking him out.
Hauling the man out of the way, Oliver tied him hand and foot and gagged him, just in case he woke and tried to call for help. The door had swung open slightly of it’s own accord. Oliver pushed it open with his foot, keeping his bow drawn, and slipped inside.
A young woman with flaming red hair, pale skin, and wide, scared eyes. She was bound to a chair, her hands behind her back. Her ankles was tied to the chair legs. A gag was tied cruelly about her head. At the sight of Oliver, she started twisting and making muffled, frantic noises, trying to escape. He lowered his bow, shoving the arrow back into his quiver, and help up his hands. She calmed slightly.
He slowly knelt in front of her and undid the gag.
“Who are you?” she whispered. Her voice was weak and afraid.
Oliver swallowed. He hadn’t spoken aloud in two years. “A friend,” he managed to croak. “Trust me. I’ll get you out of here.”
Slowly, trying not to startle her, he pulled out his dagger and cut through her restraints. Sliding the dagger back into the sheath he’d made from bark, he offered her a hand and pulled her to her feet.
“Where are we?” she asked.
He shrugged. “No clue,” he muttered, trying to keep his voice down. He was already feeling the strain of speaking. “I’ve been stuck here for two years. What’s your name?”
“Tess,” she whispered.
“All right. I need you to stick close to me. I knocked out the guy sitting outside the room. But there may be someone else here. I need you to help me get him up to the deck so we can throw him overboard. Can you do that?”
She nodded sharply. Oliver led her out into the hall and together they managed to haul the unconscious drug-runner up the stairs. They left him lying on the deck while the searched the rest of the boat. It was empty save for them.
When he was sure that the boat was clear, Oliver threw the now conscious man off the ship and hurried back to the engine room. The shouts of the other men could be heard as they pulled away from the island, but they were already out of reach.
Sighing in relief, Oliver slumped over the steering wheel.
“Who are you?” Tess asked in amazement.
He just smiled at her.
***
“That’s amazing,” Chloe breathed when Oliver finally finished.
He just shrugged. “Not really. We called for help when were far enough away from the island. Or, Tess did,” he corrected with a slight grin. “I could still barely speak. I wrote out my story for her so she could tell whoever answered who I was.”
“Why was she on the ship?” Chloe asked curiously.
“She was a marine biology student,” he explained. “She was part of a team in Fiji studying marine life. They were ambushed by the drug runners. They took her hostage. She was the only survivor.”
“Oh my god. How long did they have her?”
“Two weeks.”
“Is she all right?”
He nodded. “Scared, but all right. That’s why I stuck so close to her when we got back. I felt bad that after being kidnapped that she was being drug through the media. Queen Industries might have been able to keep them from publishing for a few hours, but not from showing up with cameras. That’s hard enough when you haven’t been traumatized.”
“And here I accused you of having a relationship with you when you were just being nice. Have I mentioned I’m sorry?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I know how it looked Chloe. I was pretty desperate to be around someone else. And after the way I acted when I saw you with Jimmy, you had every right to jump to conclusions. By the way,” he added with a slight grin. “I’m sorry for that, too.”
Chloe smiled. “So now that we know what happened to each other over the past two years, what do we do?”
“I have no idea,” he admitted. “I guess we just have to wait and see how we’ve changed and get to know each other again.”
“So, basically we hang out?”
“You up for that?”
At that moment, the buzzer went off, signifying the arrival of their food. Grinning, Chloe stood to get it. “Pick a movie. We’ll spend the evening hanging out. Know any good party games?”
Author’s Note: All right. So, since I feel like I kind of have been dragging things along, a little hint of what is to come. Things get just a little more complicated when Chloe has to cover a QI Gala for the Register.
Chapter 6
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Date: 2011-04-12 11:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-16 07:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-13 02:49 pm (UTC)This story is just so so good and I love it to pieces :)
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Date: 2011-04-16 07:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-13 03:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-16 07:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-15 06:25 am (UTC)Galen
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Date: 2011-04-16 07:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-17 07:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-27 05:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-25 09:41 pm (UTC)Excellent chapter..:))
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Date: 2011-04-27 05:25 pm (UTC)As for Oliver, I've always felt that no one has ever given much thought to what actually happened to him beyond the two minutes we got in season 9. Something big had to happen there for him to make the leap to GA. That and it just came out really boring when he recounted it the way Chloe did. :P